


it's a deal (+out of place)

by ninata



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, ロード・エルメロイⅡ世の事件簿 - 三田誠 | Lord El-Melloi II Case Files - Sanda Makoto
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Moving On, Pining, Poetry, Resolved Romantic Tension, also surprise!! your favorite lesbians are here for two seconds, i mean he still doesn't come out and say it and neither does melvin but they tried real hard, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 02:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21067298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninata/pseuds/ninata
Summary: Melvin and Waver have a long-awaited conversation after his 44th. (plus, a poem.)





	it's a deal (+out of place)

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for:  
-waver throwing up because he drank too much  
-case files spoilers? sort of. listen i know how volume 10 ended with gray and i said "but what if they fixed it?"  
-melvin being a little mean about iswav. i'm just writing him in character, i ain't trying to start a ship war.  
enjoy!

“I’m surprised you’ve stuck around this long.”

Reines says it suddenly, swirling wine in her glass. In her art of sadism, Reines hadn’t changed. Fifteen years, and she was still a sharp-tongued viper with amused eyes.

But she was Melvin’s junior in that. He smiles, laughing. “Lady El-Melloi, couldn’t the same be said of your wife?”

“I—” She sputters, collecting herself. “I don’t mean it like that, Melvin. I suppose I misspoke. If I were you, I'd have given up."

"I'm afraid you've lost me! What are you talking about?"

She waves her hand. "Ah, it's not my business in the end. But seeing you look at him like that after all this time, I can't help but feel a little sad for you."

There's a twinge in Melvin's chest. Yes, from a sadist to another, there's a certain camaraderie between them. Or maybe, between two people who were content to spend their whole lives pretending, there was an instinct to look after each other. Melvin had the sense to dote on her in her early twenties, dropping subtle hints about how far she could play her game until she'd have to realize she was simply alienating the person she loved. As an observer, as a loser, Melvin could offer tidbits of advice every now and then, but only with like-minded people.

There were many times in his life he came close to admitting, but he never did. He didn't need to. He was content being close to Waver, and that was what Reines was talking about.

"Well, what can I say! Maybe I'm the biggest idiot in all of this." Melvin says simply. "If he's the one who's never moved on, that makes me even worse, you know?"

He casts a meaningful look out the window, lifting up his own glass from its seat on Waver's coffee table. Like a mage's ritual, he swirls it in the cup, amber washing over rocks of ice, trapped between them, stretched pale up the edges and over back into the vessel. There's a delicate clink of the ice against the glass, and then Melvin raises it to his lips and drinks.

"Maybe you are." Reines says quietly. "Well, his debts are almost paid, and he won't be a Lord for much longer. You'll have to make some new excuses."

Another laugh. "You're right! Maybe I'll have him be my caretaker?!" The idea of Waver living in the Weins mansion is laughable, attending to his every whim whenever he feels like making a stink about his declining health. "We'll see!"

We'll see.

Reines opens her mouth when Gray opens the door, shouldering Waver Velvet into the room.

"I can walk, I can walk." He grumbles, wiping his lips on his chin.

"You can't drink like you used to, sir." She scolds, guiding him to sit across from Melvin. "You're 44 years old, now."

"I feel better now." He says. "Let me get more cake…"

"No." Gray is stern, folding her arms. Once she no longer needed to wear her hood, she truly blossomed into a wonderful young lady. The kind who takes no prisoners and takes on any problem with a level head.

...She wasn't too unlike Waver, really.

Waver sighs heavily, leaning against the armrest, as if he's read Melvin's mind. "You two can leave, then. It's getting late."

"Are we being sent off?" Melvin asks.

"No, you stay." His tone is hesitant, and Melvin tilts his head in confusion. He exchanges a look with both Reines and Gray, who shrug him off and return the confused expression respectively.

Today Waver Velvet turned forty four. In attendance to the celebration were countless upon countless alumni and current students, but it had wound down into this; Melvin and Waver sitting in his study, Melvin finishing off his whiskey and watching Waver as he arranges pillows around himself.

"Did you want to talk?" Melvin asks, a little feeling of dread kicking in. Is this the  _ leave me alone, it's been long enough  _ talk he was afraid of?

"Yes. I suppose I did." Waver rests his head back against the pillows, his gaze resting on the ceiling. "...How long have we known each other, now?"

"...Gosh, almost thirty years now." Melvin says, musing over it.

They were in the same year, but not the same classes. Melvin was the only one who ever stopped to pay attention to Waver's inaccurate and idiotic claims about magecraft. He seemed to never study or learn better, but Melvin was fascinated by his distance from the world Melvin had grown up in.  _ A modern approach to magecraft.  _ It was complete lunacy, but something about that lunacy caught Melvin's attention. It was interesting, after all. What could be more interesting than the raving madman?

He pestered him from time to time, sitting by him in the cafeteria, asking inflammatory questions at pauses in Waver's grand speeches. Waver would snap back at him, full of righteous fury, and Melvin would laugh.

When he asked to leave for some ritual in Japan, Melvin figured it'd be funny. When he didn't return after a year, Melvin figured he had died. There was sadness in that, but people died every day. Mages dropped like flies. The world of magecraft was a world of constant loss, and Melvin knew that just as well as anyone. Even as an observer, as someone unable to participate beyond tuning, he was a prisoner to the whims of fate.

And then he saw him again.

Just by coincidence. They rode off together in the moonlight on a motorcycle. When Waver asked from the bottom of his heart for more money…

...Yeah, that was probably when Melvin realized he had loved him.

The sounds of the city were far away. The night was quiet, preserving the peace between them. Melvin knew more than anyone he had lost. He had sent Waver right into the arms of another man, and a dead one, at that. It was a love from which Waver could never recover.

Being near him, again, was enough for Melvin. He accepted that reality without thinking, like he had accepted everything else. His own failings, the blood that spilled from his lips, his mother's suffocating presence. He knew his place. He knew how far he could push things. Most of all, he knew it was always going to stay the same.

"...What would you say if I told you I had seen him again?"

Waver says it simply.

Melvin puzzles over that for a moment. "...Your servant, I'm guessing? How? You mean, recently?"

"Yes."

"...When?" Melvin was genuinely surprised. "You've been working."

"It's hard to explain…" Waver shifts, then gets up from his reclined position. Off he goes to grab his cigar and cutter, his matches. Just like he always had, ever since he picked them up, he cuts the cigar, strikes the match, lights the cigar, and sticks it between his teeth. A cloud of fragrant smoke blows between them, filling the empty air.

He begins to draw in the smoke with the lit end.

"It was through something called Chaldea. A summoning system built by the Animuspheres of a different timeline than our own."

"Animuspheres...like Lady Olga-Marie?"

"Indeed. In one world," He draws a circle, "They achieved their dream of a summoning system capable of calling hundreds of heroic spirits to a location in the Arctic. I was one of them."

Melvin frowns. "But you're not—"

"No, I'm not. But I became the vessel for a heroic spirit Zhuge Liang, and—"

"Waver, this is a whole lot of explanation I'm not going to understand or care about."

He sighs. Waver was really enjoying talking, but Melvin's tipsy and tired.

"I got to see him again. That's all. I got to spend time with him, and be his retainer."

Melvin feels a jealous twist in his stomach. His eyes narrow, then relax. "How, how wonderful!"

"A lot of time had passed, but before I knew it, the Grand Order ended. I was back here, and I had only blinked my eyes. Everything that had transpired disappeared, only to be viewed in the timeline it had happened, not my own."

Melvin was beginning to suspect Waver had gotten mixed up in some bad drugs and hallucinated something, but he was going to be nice about it and not mention it. He smiles. "And?"

"...I suppose I learned a lot in that time."

"That's good, then!"

Waver mushes the cigar into his ashtray. He looks off to the side for a while, like he's figuring out how to phrase what he wants to say. Melvin stews gently, angry he had lost yet again, but willing to hear him out at least.

Waver stands up, then sits beside Melvin. Melvin gives him some room.

"...Melvin."

"Yes?"

"...I can't...ah, it's no use." Waver grits his teeth. "I can't just come out and say it after all this time. Useless, absolutely useless."

That's a little bit more of the Waver Melvin's used to. "Oh, take your time!"

"...Shit. How do I put this…"

A very heavy pause.

"Melvin, you're in love with me, aren't you?"

That shatters Melvin's composure completely.

What is this? This sick feeling? Dread again, for one. Pain. Mortification. His least well kept, yet most embarrassing secret has been laid bare by the master of deduction himself. Melvin stammers, unsure what defense to make.  _ No, of course I'm not!  _ That wouldn't work here, would it? He coughs a few times at the sudden strain he's put on himself, his gaze flickering from Waver to the ceiling to his knees to his glass, to the cigar, to his cane leaned against the couch, everywhere and anywhere.

"No, it's alright. You don't have to deny it. I know you are, and I always have."

Melvin chokes out words. "You knew?"

"Of course. I mean, I tried not to think about it too often, admittedly. I didn't want to feel like I was using your feelings for me as a means to secure money." Though, it  _ is  _ kind of what he did. Melvin isn't mad, though! It's his mother's money, not his. "Besides, even an idiot would wonder why you kept coming back."

"...Well, I've been found out, ace detective! What now?"

"...That's what I'm trying to figure out."

What a weird thing to say. Melvin wonders if it's too late to throw up all over Waver until he passes out. Maybe he can force a heart attack.

Waver puts his hand on Melvin's arm, a gesture that hurts Melvin just as much as his words, and yet suddenly all those violent thoughts of escape and misery are gone in that instant. He looks at Waver, and time freezes. Just as cliched as one would expect. Ah, man. Melvin really is a sucker, isn't he?

"Melvin, I want to...I want to try. With you."

"With...me?"

"I want to try things out with you. I mean, we...we get on, don't we? I know I'm cruel, and I act like I don't give a shit, but I...I do. You've always meant a lot to me." Waver's voice shakes a little, sounding more and more like his old self with each phrase. "I don't know if it'll work out, so I won't promise you anything permanent. But I...I feel like I owe you enough at this point—" He swallows. "—And more than that, it isn't so difficult to be fond of you."

Melvin blinks.

The most honest part of Waver Velvet, he figures, are his eyes; earnestly hazel, grey sometimes, green most of the time, but now, a warm brown. Whatever the hell this whole thing is that Waver's dropped on his lap, at least he's being honest about it. Melvin likes that about him.

But he likes a lot of things about Waver. He likes that he's so stubborn, and that he doesn't give up on anyone. He likes that he's humble, yet still proud. He likes that tenacity.

He likes how he feels pain the hardest out of anyone. He likes how he takes everything personally. He likes how he takes his tea with milk and honey, and how he doesn't bother keeping milk in his fridge because it spoils too fast. He likes how those cigars smell, and the creases between his eyebrows, and the grey hairs already starting to pop up on his scalp, the ones Melvin teases him for.

Maybe like isn't the right word. Maybe it's love, and Melvin's a real sucker. Maybe Melvin's feelings are too much for him, too honest and kind for a bad person, for a brute. Maybe they didn't fit a magus, or, rather, a magus tuner. Maybe they didn't fit someone of the Weins family line.

Maybe Waver Velvet just made everyone a better person.

"...You're drunk." Melvin says carefully, moving to wave off Waver's hand. They brush past each other, skin dyed red in the lamplight, soft, pliant. Waver's hand is rough with calluses from writing too often. Those fingers interlace, and the gesture is so simple— too simple, something Melvin had dreamt of, longed for all this time.

"No, not anymore. Though, maybe it'd give me a bit of courage to be honest with you." He smiles sadly. "Melvin, what do you say?"

"...What do I even say to that!" Melvin laughs, then coughs. The coughs are a little wet, and Waver fumbles for a handkerchief. "Oh, jeez. You're really playing hardball tonight all of a sudden."

"If you've given up on me, I don't blame you." Waver looks at Melvin's hand, at the skin that's nearly transparent. All bones and sinew, cartilage and green veins, red spots flecked across the knuckles. "But if not, I…"

Melvin's heart beats so terribly. Really, at this rate, he'll have to get wheeled into the ED.

If all his dreams could come true, would he really pass up the chance? But what if it were to sour? What if taking the chance would mean everything going wrong?

...Well, that wasn't really a question. Melvin loved gambles.

"Waver, can you promise me," Melvin says, trying very hard not to stumble over his words, "That it'll be interesting?"

Waver pauses, and the smile that graces those familiar features  _ almost  _ makes all the heartache worth it. He'll make him pay him back in full, if he can.

"Yes, Melvin. It'll be to your liking."

Maybe his king would've wanted him to move on. Maybe that's what Melvin's rival would have decreed, and maybe that makes things a little bittersweet. But he'll stomp all over those good feelings. Just as a cruel man like him would, he'll do double what that servant could have ever done.

He'll do anything, really. That was what Waver Velvet did to a man. It was only natural to want to do anything for him. Melvin's head dips, then rests in Waver's palm.

He'd make this last for a thousand years if he could.

"Then it's a deal."

* * *

_ out of place _

Patiently tiptoeing around your corners,

Make myself at home where I don't belong.

Wearing blue gaily among the mourners,

Violin strings sing a familiar song.

If I hum to your beat, will you look my way?

You're slow but outrun me at every turn.

The strings may hold in them considerable sway,

But such trifling things all easily burn.

Hair heavy like curtains and eyes dark with dread,

And yet you're the same man that I knew before.

If I'd known that you'd make a deal with the dead,

Would I have sent you all alone to the war?

If you have regrets, I have them as well,

But I cannot match you in grief or your shame.

And yet there's a secret that I'll never tell,

I love you, have loved you, and will all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> whew...  
okay, i owe this to myself mostly, because i spent all of 2018 agonizing over the fact waver was going to fucking die alone, speaking realistically, in every single timeline because he can't resummon iskandar, and then in like march of 2019 i was like "??? wait, who is melvin?" and finally felt peace.  
i hope this was...a good read! i'm not enjoying my writing lately, so i stuck in one of my poems. i've been super burnt out on every front lately, but...y'know! i like putting stuff out anyway. i gotta get my shit together and write some graynes...  
thanks for reading as always!


End file.
